1000 NE, Summer - Winter
Merlin had chosen to stay as far from the Dragon Reborn as possible when they arrived in Cairhien--even in the Black Tower there was mention that he'd fallen to madness already. From what he'd seen on the battlefield in Altara he wasn't certain he wanted to argue the point. The world was at mercy of someone already half-mad, and one they couldn't slip a mug of poisoned tea to avoid the repercussions of his madness. Merlin had already seen some he'd grown friendly with succumb, one day talking and laughing as they did their best to master a weave, the next screaming and channelling those very weaves towards those the day prior he'd considered a friend . The M'Hael had given them their last tea.
He had never been inside a palace before, and stared around at the interior of the Sun Palace. The building was well-built; he'd heard it was Ogier work. The delicate bracing between buildings, the careful scrollwork, all showed a master hand in the creation of the golden city of Cairhien. The Banner of the Rising Sun flew above the towers. It was strange to walk into the palace of those Tairens considered dissolute and from whom there had always been a threat of war.
Al'Thor surrounded himself with Aes Sedai. They treated them like dangerous madmen at first, but slowly it began to change. He supposed they couldn't compare to al'Thor's quicksilver moods, as the Asha'man made themselves scarce when they went about their appointed tasks. After a while Merlin noticed speculative glances being thrown towards them, with Daigain Sedai being especially friendly with young Hopwil.
Merlin smiled at their attempted conversation and did his best to be polite in recompense for al'Thor's rude manner, but otherwise avoided them. He'd found a large empty courtyard perfect for channelling, far enough from the palace grounds, he hoped, that al'Thor wouldn't take his experimentations for an attack. He spent many hours in the courtyard. At first people appeared, curious at the sounds and bright lights, for he'd had a thought that thunderous noise and bright sparking in the air would disorient. Once they saw it was the One Power, wielded by a man, they disappeared quickly, and soon enough it was a guaranteed empty space whenever he wanted it.
The Lord Dragon never was truly in Cairhien, always Travelling to visit some lord, or one of his armies. Merlin knew when he was gone from the agitated state of the Maidens; nothing you could point at and say for certain they were upset with, but there was an uneasy undercurrent about them.
Al'Thor was in the palace one day when Merlin felt weaves above him, above the palace, flashing through the corridors. At first he thought it was al'Thor, already prone to strangeness, when saidin resolved itself from different pinpoints, and he knew it wasn't. Taking hold of saidin, he walked the corridors quietly, and heard a scream, and then many.
Rounding a corner, he stopped and hid; Asha'man Torval was smiling, throwing balls of fire down the corridor and hitting the serving folk, a tight grin appearing whenever he hit them despite their dodge. Merlin could feel other sources of saidin in the palace, with one channelling such amounts Merlin supposed him to be al'Thor. He channelled Fire and Spirit at Torval, a weave which would leave sparking pain over his skin, and felt the other man release saidin in his shock.
Merlin readied a weave of Air to bind him and another of Spirit to shield him from the Source. He'd come back for him later, after he'd gone to al'Thor's aid. The others were around, too; they'd all have to be careful that al'Thor didn't take them for the attackers. If Torval was here, Merlin bet Taim's other favourites were, too. He stepped carefully over some rubble from the broken wall, and bent towards Torval.
Someone channelling behind him made him swing around, and he came face-to-face with Mordred. Merlin fell to the ground, scrabbling at the stones, caught in the same pain-sparking weave he'd sent at Torval. It shifted, became sharper, until there were needles stabbing him, stabbing up from the inside.
"I should have known you'd make yourself al'Thor's lapdog," said Mordred with obvious enjoyment. "You should have joined the Great Lord, Merlin. I will live long and know glory, while you will be nothing but food for maggots and worms. You thought to look at me with reproach, you, a servant?" His face twisted. "You will die knowing you struck no blow for the Light. The Great Lord will remake the world. I am the son of a lord, destined for glory! I'll"
Merlin pulled himself up, using the Void to push the pain aside enough to do so. Saidin escaped him. He could feel it sliding further away from him, something tearing at his link to the Source. A chunk of rubble lay close at hand, and with the last burst of energy he threw it at Mordred. Through an enveloping fog Merlin saw it clip him on the side of the head, and then he fell, Void shattering and pain overtaking him.
Merlin dreamed. He dreamt Arthur was coming, a torrent of anger and worry. His bed was a soft confection the likes of which he'd never lain in before. He opened his eyes and Arthur was over him. Merlin smiled at his vision, noting the differences from his memory of the High Lord's son and what he thought Arthur would look like now. A scar above his eye, a scar splitting his lip. Arthur didn't smile back, impassive in his regard, if not over the bond. Merlin wondered why Arthur would be angry when Merlin loved him; he closed his eyes to the angry man, a sadness threading through him.
He dreamed. A roaring of saidin stronger than he'd ever felt, and a fear overcame him through his dream. It had to be the end. Arthur was sitting at his bedside, head in hands; his hair had grown longer, a small beard catching the light, glinting golden in the sun. Merlin smiled at seeing him so close, the burst of worry over saidin sliding away, and from Arthur felt a resignation as he smiled tiredly at back at Merlin. Merlin fell asleep to a feeling of warmth coming through the bond.
Merlin woke one morning to a cool room and clear mind. A servant was emptying a chamber pot at the side of the bed.
"Morning," he said, voice scratchy with disuse.
She screeched and skittered backwards, giving him a wide, frightened stare, then ran out the door, leaving the bucket of slops at his side. Merlin slid to the far side of the mattress, making a face at the smells, and tried to stand. He clutched at the headboard as his head swam and legs refused to hold him up.
"You men are silly boys," came a voice from the doorway. An older woman came in, the chatelaine. She drew close and peered into his eyes. "You appear to have recovered. Don't go too far or you'll fall flat on your face!"
Merlin had spent a month unaware. He woke to knowing Asha'man had tried to kill the Dragon Reborn, and he had fallen under suspicion as one of those responsible until a servant had spoken up, and had nearly been left for dead.
"An ugly weave," al'Thor had said, "designed to make the most pain. He used a weave of Spirit to make you unable to channel; if you'd tried you would have done yourself damage, perhaps even severed yourself from the Source. Corele thought it best to keep you asleep while your body healed."
It took only another visit from the Aes Sedai, Corele, for him to be up and walking again. After that he ate everything he could lay his hands on until he felt strong enough to do a lap of the castle, then returned to his duties for the Lord Dragon. He spent time in his lonely courtyard, playing with new weaves, examining them as he placed Fire and Earth and Spirit upon stones and wood; they rarely did what he wanted, but he was close to creating multiple origin point weaves.
Much had happened in his time abed. Aes Sedai had bonded Asha'man, those who'd survived the attack on the Dragon Reborn. Apparently the Black Tower thought they were responsible for the attack on the Dragon Reborn, and the Aes Sedai had bonded them for their safety. Merlin wondered why the Lord Dragon's word wouldn't have been enough to keep the Black Tower from their throats, but remembered the Aes Sedai's overtures before the attack. They'd likely planted the seed of the idea. Flinn had been bonded by Corele Sedai, which didn't surprise Merlin at all; an interest in Healing consumed both.
Two of the Asha'man had died, young Hopwil and Morr. He remembered speaking to them as if only yesterday. The sadness of their passing warred within him with the awe at finding saidin clean, and he had to hold himself back from using the One Power now that it was without taint. He found himself looking for any reason to hold the One Power, to the point he spent most of his days in the courtyard practising weaves.
"Hopwil died well," Flinn told him, and described the wasteland of Shadar Logoth. They were in their cups one day when Merlin suggested they visit it so he could see it all for himself, remembering a vague sense of fever dream and wanting to see it as true. The melted bowl in the earth, with the Mountains of Mist towering high above it, was awe-inspiring. Flinn and Merlin stood at the crater looking down at the smooth walls, already seeing corpses of animals in the bottom who'd been unable to get out.
It made him wonder if other fever dreams were true, remembering the soft touch of Arthur's hand.
It wasn't all he'd missed; the Dragon Reborn had come up against one of the Forsaken and lost a hand and treated it as nothing, an inconvenience to pass over and continue on through. Merlin found himself staring at the stump as al'Thor spoke, somehow all the more menacing because of his lack of reaction to his maiming. Al'Thor had only grown harder while Merlin had been bedridden, and where he'd smiled once, even if only at Min, he now barely reacted at all.
Merlin returned to the Lord Dragon's antechamber one afternoon, after a routine canvassing of the Sun Palace and checking of wards. The Asha'man took this in turns, always returning to tell al'Thor of any findings. There was never sign of the renegade Asha'man, no sign of any male channellers besides themselves, but a precaution had been initiated, and small traps laid about the palace grounds for wielders of saidin.
"Leave us!" said al'Thor, once again coldly angry at the Aes Sedai.
The women stood slowly, and left in a manner suggesting it was all of their own will. Their Asha'man Warders looked angry at the insult and followed them. Merlin shifted towards the door.
"Asha'man Emrys, a moment," said Min.
Merlin had tried not to look at her too closely after seeing her smile at the Lord Dragon cheerfully; it had become quickly obvious who she was to the Dragon Reborn, and he didn't think al'Thor would take kindly to a man looking at her. She wore a version of men's clothing, tight breeches and embroidery from head to toe; she held no interest for him, but he looked because of the novelty. Now he had to turn and face her, while al'Thor sat holding a goblet so hard his knuckles were turning white.
"I can see things about people," she said, looking at him sideways. "Not everyone, all the time."
"I have heard the Aes Sedai speak of you, yes," said Merlin carefully.
"You know High Lord Pendragon?" she asked. Al'Thor looked at her, curious.
Merlin stiffened a little. "High Lord Pendragon? I heard that he had died in battle with Seanchan."
"Not that one," she said. "The son, High Lord Arthur."
"Yes," he said eventually. Speaking of Arthur reminded Merlin of him, and he touched delicately around the muffled bond, considering removing it for a moment, but let the thought go. That door was closed; he was starting to come to realise this. It no longer felt like a hard punch to the chest, more like one with a feather pillow between him and the blow.
"There are two sorts of people I see images around, all the time," she said. "Those who can channel; Aes Sedai, men like yourself. Rand." She smiled at al'Thor. "Warders, also. Imagine my surprise, when I saw High Lord Arthur, a Tairen High Lord, bonded as Warder. I thought Morgana Sedai had bonded her brother for a short while."
Merlin almost smiled at the thought of that; Arthur had never really known his older half-sister as she'd joined the White Tower years prior, and upon her return Arthur had never fully trusted her, although he did so more than he did any Aes Sedai. She had never explained why she stayed in Tear despite its unfriendliness to all those who could channel, but Arthur had grown to relax in her presence. Merlin had begun to think she intended to stay on when Arthur became High Lord, stay on as advisor even in the face of increasingly pointed comments from High Lords about having an Aes Sedai in the Pendragon stronghold.
"I saw the images one day," she continued. "I saw your face and knew he was bonded to you. You are going to save each other's lives, and both of you will be important the day of Tarmon Gai'don. If you are both there, things have a chance. If only one of you, or neither--if you both died--then, well." Min looked bleak. "A chain is broken, and another future might come into play."
Al'Thor touched her knee, a comforting pat.
"So it was you who showed the Asha'man the bonding weave. It looks like you'll be joining Pendragon," said al'Thor. "The High Lord is joining the fight against the Seanchan past Ebou Dar; they appear to be retreating towards Falme. You'll be one of the Asha'man joining the armies."
Min shot al'Thor a look. "Tell him the rest, Rand."
Al'Thor put his goblet down and sat forward, his hard eyes pinning Merlin to the spot.
"My generals are being killed," he said. "Two now have died; one by Draghkar, warded against being found, and another by a gholam. You saw the remains of one general at Amador, even if you didn't know it. These are Shadowspawn created to be assassins. Two generals; it tells me where they're striking, weakening my forces."
Merlin blinked, and recalled the blood-soaked tent with a ill twist to his stomach. He'd not been able to eat that day.
"You and two others will be going to the armies of Tear and Illian to keep their generals alive, most especially Pendragon. He could very well be on his way to becoming one of the Great Generals, or so Mat tells me."
The surprise of this banished thought of that bloody day. Merlin had heard tell of Mat Cauthon, grown up in the same village as the Dragon Reborn, now one of his finest generals. He had a swelling of pride at the thought of Arthur growing into this, and then was struck by the thought this would make him even more of a target.
"I'll be going out to the armies in a few days," said al'Thor. "You, Nutir, and Kullyn will be going to Pendragon's army. Nutir and Kullyn came from the camp of Cendred--they know what a Draghkar is, now. Their presence may help if another comes for the generals, especially against Pendragon."
The wait felt like forever. He met the other Asha'man, Nutir and Kullyn, both Dedicated, and they spent some time dicing together as they waited for the Lord Dragon to take them to their next posting. Merlin held himself back, equally excited and terrified at the thought of being around Arthur again, this time without a width of field between them.
A Cairhienin soldier came for them one day, relaying the message. They were to present themselves in the Travelling courtyard, within the hour: the armies were marching their way across Amadicia. The remains of the Seanchan force were falling back towards the north. Arthur's forces were taking them all the way back to Toman's Head.
Al'Thor stopped before the Gateway he'd woven, and Merlin halted by him.
"It's time you became an Asha'man, Emrys," he said, and produced a red-and-gold dragon from a pocket.
Al'Thor took his collar and pinned it next to the sword of the Dedicated. Merlin looked down, a thrill of pride prickling at his throat, and pulled his shoulders back, watching the Aiel Maidens stream through the Gateway. The three Asha'man looked at each other, and at the Gateway, and then followed al'Thor through, Merlin carefully blanking his mind to what was coming.